


Psi War

by dex, dexf, dimensionhoppingrose, FritoKAL, iamthez, Indiana_J, Luciain, Rossi, X_Project



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Project (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dex/pseuds/dex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexf/pseuds/dexf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimensionhoppingrose/pseuds/dimensionhoppingrose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FritoKAL/pseuds/FritoKAL, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthez/pseuds/iamthez, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indiana_J/pseuds/Indiana_J, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciain/pseuds/Luciain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rossi/pseuds/Rossi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_Project/pseuds/X_Project
Summary: A mysterious patient at Jean's hospital paves the way for the return of an old and terrible foe.Quentin played by Ben, Jean by Mack, Rogue by Zoila, Haller by Tap, Topaz by Sam, Emma by Amanda S., Alex by Sam, Cecilia by Michael, Amanda Sefton by Rossi, Wanda by Jen, Illyana by Lauren, Stephen by AJ, Marie-Ange by Frito, Rachel by Jills.Parker Matthews socked by Dex, the Shadow King by Ben.For further details on the plot, seePsi War





	1. Part 1: Obscura - chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jean receives a new patient who, despite displaying unusual symptoms, seems to be in a good humor._

The nurse twirled her hair around her finger and laughed softly to herself as she left the room and headed down the hall, almost bumping into the approaching doctor. "Oh, Doctor Grey! Uh, here." She handed a clipboard with an intake chart to the other woman. "Patient's ready for you." 

Jean skidded to a stop, grabbing the intake chart. "Thanks," she said with a smile, glancing over the records as she made her way toward the patient's room. It'd been fairly typical the past few days, thankfully...or at least she told herself. Sometimes she craved a bit of excitement (as long as everyone lived, with no lasting effects). 

Knocking on the door, Jean stepped inside. 

"Mr....Matthews? I'm Dr. Grey," she said, making one more glance at his chart before she got a better look at the patient. 

"You don't look very well, Mr. Matthews. What seems to be the problem?" 

"According to WebMD, everything. Literally everything. Including Black Death. That's when I decided self-diagnosis wasn't my best plan." He gave her a wan smile, unconsciously scratching the inside of his wrist. "I've been feeling like crap for... uh... what year is this?" 

Jean laughed. "I'd rather you tell me. That way we can measure your cognitive function," she said. He looked abnormally pale, and his skin glistened with sweat, even though it was 68 degrees in the room. 

"Do you mind if I check your temperature?" 

"It depends how you want to. I might need a drink first. Is there a jazz bar in this hospital?" 

"Sadly, no," Jean said, glancing over to check his pulse rate on the monitor. It seemed unusually high for someone just laying in bed. There were a number of factors that could've caused the elevated pulse, so she had to rule everything out. 

"Are you in any pain, Mr. Matthews?" 

"Mostly tired... like one of those flu bugs that just leaves you drained all the time. Or a hangover, although after this long, I'm pretty sure I'd be both bankrupt and, well, dead of alcohol poisoning." 

"Hmm," Jean nodded in acknowledgement, pulling out a thermometer from her jacket pocket. It was one of those ones that didn't need to go into the mouth. 

"I need to take your temperature. The nurse checked it earlier, but we want to see if there's any change." 

"Sure. Um, if there is, it is totally whatever is making me sick. Totally." 

Jean laughed. "It's a symptom, not a disease. Fevers are the body's way of fighting off an infection. It means there's something in there that it wants out," she said, reaching up to run the thermometer gauge across his forehead. 

"102," she said quietly, shaking her head. 

"Your chart says you've been feeling weak and you have body aches. Are you still feeling those?" 

"Yeah. I've been going through Tylenol like Tic-Tacs and it doesn't seem to get any better. Worse, I've been sleeping really badly. I'm lucky if I get a couple hours a night." 

Jean nodded thoughtfully. She had a few ideas, but she'd need to take his blood to figure it out. His condition vaguely resembled the ones that were caused by the "cursed" emeralds that were going around. She'd check the clothes he was brought in with just to make sure, but he didn't seem to have one on him so she was keen on ruling it out.

"I'll get the nurse to do some blood work, see if we can rule out infection. In the meantime, I recommend that you stay overnight for observation." 

"Well I had a marathon scheduled but because you asked so nicely..." He eased himself back with an audible groan. The hollows around his eyes were dark and deep. "I suppose a night in bed is a much better plan." 

Jean laughed. "We don't have the best beds, but we have impeccable turn down service," she said, closing the chart. 

"What were you planning on watching?" 

"I think Breaking Bad might be asking for it. What would you suggest I petition the Gods of Netflix for?" 

Resting her elbow on the back of a nearby chair, Jean was contemplative. 

"Are you a fan of Stephen King and Steven Spielberg?" 

"Are you implying that I'm somehow anti-Steven? I mean, if you're a Seagle, you're right, but I like other Steves." He started to count off on his fingers. "McQueen. McGarret. Austin. Universe." He gave her a sidelong smile. 

"Wonder?" Jean mused. "You have good tastes then. I'm guessing you've probably seen Stranger Things, then, with it being the love child of the two." 

"Of Stevie Wonder and I? I'm not sure that's the connection I see." 

Jean smirked. "I meant King and Spielberg. I don't know enough about you to have made that connection between you and Mr. Wonder." 

"Well, to be fair, I only have a couple of albums. But I have watched Stranger Things. Suggestion number two, doc?" 

"Hmm," Jean tapped her chin. "I've played my generally unilateral favorite. Now I'll have to get more information about you before I can make an informed recommendation. For example...what do you do for living? And what do you like to watch?" Jean herself, being a doctor, had a love/hate relationship with medical dramas. 

"I got to be honest, I'm kinda terrified about what might happen. So I'm thinking of watching old Friends episodes. Do you think we could share a coffee watching one before you need to move on?" 

Silent a moment, Jean smiled. "I really need to get back to my rounds. But it was lovely to meet you," she said. 

"That's fair. Thanks for the talk, doc." 

Jean extended her hand for him to shake. "You're welcome," she said. Her smile lingered. 

"I'll be back in to check on you a little later on. Anything happens between now and then, tell the nurse to page me and I'll be here right away, okay?" 

"Wow, a Doctor and an internet connection repair woman? That's quite the resume." He said as he shook her hand. 

Jean grinned. "The medical kind of problem," she said, tapping the Caduceus symbol of two snakes intertwined around a staff, with wings sprouting from the top, embroidered on her lab coat beside her name. 

Her grin turned into a smirk. "But you'd be surprised."


	2. Part 1 - Obscura - chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jean's mystery patient has a mystery recovery, and it inspires him to make their professional relationship personal._

After a few minutes of scanning of Mr. Matthews' chart, Jean felt a note of sadness as she readied herself to go in. After a week in the hospital, he was doing progressively better, even after observation, even if they still couldn't find anything wrong. But they couldn't keep him there. 

She finally knocked on the door, stepping inside. 

"Well, I think everything seems to be on the mend. You should be ready to be discharged this afternoon." 

"The only positive discharge possible." Parker said, sitting up and swiveling in the bed and putting his feet on the floor. "I have to admit, Doc, I feel a lot better. You guys do good work." 

"The miracle of modern medicine, I suppose," Jean said with a smile. 

"We still don't know what's fully wrong with you, but you've made a steady recovery so there's not much we can do other than keep you here until things flare back up. It may have been a fluke. Still, if you have any recurrent symptoms let me---us know, okay?" 

"You almost sound disappointed, Doc." Parker gave her an easy grin. "Let me guess. It's the hospital gown. You know, most guys can't make something baby blue and assless work, but I think I've got it happening." 

Jean felt herself nearly responding in a way that was entirely inappropriate for a doctor, but she managed to reel it in at the last moment. She laughed. "That's---No, I'm glad you're feeling better," she said, clutching the clipboard against her chest. 

"Not every medical mystery can be solved, I suppose." 

"Sure you don't want me to put in a little self harm? Nothing too serious, but maybe a banged up ankle or something? Last chance." He said, getting up. He was... mostly joking. 

Jean smirked. "I'd rather you not. Goes against my 'first do no harm' oath." 

"Always a roadblock." Parker got up. "I guess it is time to sleep in my own bed again. And eat something that isn't brought by pretty women." 

He moved over to the small closet and began to pull out the clothes he'd been admitted in. "So, assuming a thermometer isn't involved, can I interest you in a coffee? I live a couple of miles from here and there's some places that make a decent... coffee." He finished, lamely. 

Silent a moment, Jean glanced down. It'd been months, nearly a year or more since she and Warren had dated. She'd been so wrapped up in her work that she barely looked at anyone else when they came her way. If she wasn't careful, she'd probably wind up an old lady, blathering on about the time she fought Iron Man. 

"I like...coffee," she said finally, smiling softly. 

"That would be nice." 

"I hear good things about the pastry... oh, wait, you said yes. I'm on unexplored territory here." Parker winked unexpectedly. "Great. No, really, great. So, do I call you or you call me. There's some kind of professional thing we need to navigate, right?" 

Jean nodded. "Yeah. Especially since you're my patient. But, you won't be soon, so....We can wait until then for number exchange. In the meantime, though, you'll still have to stay in the assless gown for a little while longer until we've finished all our tests." 

"See, when I use that pick-up line, people think I'm creepy." 

"Purely medical context," Jean mused. 

"I'll send in the nurse to take some blood and urine samples and administer one more intravenous round of antibiotics. The samples are just to make sure. Like I said, you should be able to be discharged this afternoon, but I'd rather take precautions. " 

"OK Cupid is usually less stringent but... I'm happy to wait." He gave her a grin as he pulled out his clothes. "So, I'm going to put these on..." 

"...this afternoon when we discharge you. No earlier," Jean said with a simple wag of her finger. 

"You win, Doc. I am in your capable hands until I'm not." 

Jean grinned. "Good," she said. "You would have some very cranky nurses, and no one wants to get on their bad side." 

She turned to leave. 

"Get some rest, Mr. Matthews. I'll see you in a few." 

"It's a date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	3. Part 1 - Obscura - chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Rogue have a girls' night, but Rogue nearly loses it when Jean talks about the new guy she's seeing.

Rogue closed her eyes, and allowed herself to relax. Sometimes, spending time with friends in silence was the perfect thing. After busting her butt for months, her course was over and it was time to gain back freedom and independence. Laying there on Jean's couch, she listened to her friend putter around, cozy in the fact that she didn't have to say anything if she didn't. 

Rogue was never quiet for long though. 

"I'm so happy school is done. Have I told you that enough today? I'm just sooooo done. If I tell you I want to go back, kick me or something." 

Jean sunk into the chair beside her with a laugh. "How will that help me? You're practically invulnerable. I'll be the one stubbing my toe." 

Rogue opened her mouth in protest before closing it again quickly. "Point. I mean, let's be real," she sat up in a V position. "I am a lean, muscular specimen of a proto human. Even if I weren't invulnerable, I got no fat on me." She reached down to pinch her abs. "See? It's why I eat so much. I secretly wish for flab." 

Jean nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds snuggly," she said as an apple floated into her hand and she took a bite. 

"Any particular reason?" She had mostly finished chewing when she finally spoke. 

"For that exact reason -- to make me snugglier." Rogue grinned and gave a wink. "Plus, it's sore to sit on chairs for too long with my bony ass." She stretched out her toes and smiled. "Although, let's be real, doesn't matter how snuggly I get, no one can get too close unless they're Logan which is why he's my perfect match. Soulmate and all that crap. Do you believe in that stuff? I don't know if I do. I think I should, because there's honestly no one more perfect for me than Logan, but the whole idea of soulmates and predestination is like..weird. Why don't I get free choice? Why can't I just be with someone because I want to be, not because the universe says I should be? Bleh. I think too much sometimes."' 

Letting out a sympathetic laugh, Jean shook her head. "I think I have a hard time wrapping my head around Logan dating someone sometimes," she admitted, tilting her head. 

"He seems...aloof." 

She shrugged to ponder it a moment, stretching her arms over her head. "I'm not sure what I believe. I just started seeing someone and....It's nice, he's nice..." 

Rogue chuckled to herself. Aloof was a good word for Logan, but he was so much more than that. She might have defended him to Jean a little more if it wasn't for the last sentence. "What?!" She bolted up. "You're dating someone? And you didn't tell me? What the heck? Who? What? Where? When? Why? Tell me everything! I live for this stuff!" 

Jean laughed, holding up her hands as Rogue verbally badgered her with questions. "Yeah....about four days," she said, shrugging as she dug out her phone and started to thumb through it. 

"He was...actually one of my patients. I don't normally do that, but....we started dating after he was discharged. He works as a counselor. Children, primarily," she said, then held up the phone, showing a picture of two of them together. 

"His name's Parker. I dunno why I never mentioned it. It's been a long time since I've dated so I guess I was afraid I'd jinx it by telling someone." 

Rogue had never been so grateful for the always constant shadows in her head. There was no way she was able to control her reaction, but at least she could lie about the astounded look on her face. 

"Oh wow!," she said finally, her eyes darting all over the picture. "Good looking, and tall. You sure he's not out of your league?" it was a lame attempt at a tease, but Rogue couldn't really say 'you sure he's not Satan?' Jean wouldn't get it. 

Tilting her head, Jean paused. "Dunno yet, but I want to find out. That's the fun, right?" she said with a laugh. She searched Rogue's eyes curiously. 

"I guess I was expecting a bit more fanfare." 

"Fanfare?" Rogue could do that. She leapt to her feet and started jumping on the couch. "Jeannie's got a boyfriend, Jeannie's got a boyfriend," she chanted in a sing-song voice. It was hard to try to keep the positive façade though when her mind was going a million miles per minute. It also didn't help that she knew that inevitably, this would all end terribly. So terribly. 

Rogue's Tom Cruise moment garnered a faint smirk but Jean folded her arms. 

"What's up? I was waiting for you to ask me for every detail and instead you look like I just slapped you silly. I know he's not an X-Man, but most of the good ones are taken. Plus I already tried that and we all know what happened there." 

"Oh, don't get wrong," Rogue stated, lifting her hands in the air. "I want every gory detail. I think it's just he seems so..... normal. Do we get normal? Is this a thing? I hope he's normal. Tell me the deets. I want to know everything about tall, non-mutant and handsome." 

Jean laughed. "How should I know? I don't think I've ever dated anyone normal before. This is new to me too," she mused, rolling over so that her legs were draped over Rogue's lap.

"Alright, here's the details..."

_Later, Rogue emails those members of X-Force who remember the previous dimension about the recurrence of Parker Matthews._

To: [Marie-Ange] [Doug] [Amanda] [Jubilee] [Artie] [Emma] [Gabriel]  
From: Rogue  
Subject: Satan lives

 

Hey guys,

I wasn't sure if I should pass this forward, but I think I can't sit on it. I'll be blunt: Jean is dating Parker Matthews.

Now, to be honest, nothing she has SAID leads me to believe he's the 'same' and I really hate to think the worst based on past stuff....but I need to tell someone so those lucky someones are you.

I also have no idea what else to tell you. He's still super cute?

Reply All  
Date: 2017-09-07 12:45 pm (local)  
xp_daytripper:

Oh great buggering bollocks. 

Looks like we'll have to run a background check at least. I mean, there's nothing to say he is evil, but Matthews caused a lot of grief in a dimension far, far away. 

I'll hit up the magical woo-woo network, what's left of it after the Way purge. I doubt there's anything, but better to be safe.

 

Re: Reply All  
Date: 2017-09-07 10:11 pm (local)  
xp_velocidad: 

I'm not sure I know who that is.

 

Re: Reply All  
Date: 2017-09-08 11:21 am (local)  
xp_cypher: 

The tl;dr version - back before the [frankenberrycat](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Frankenberry_Cat), [dude](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Mesmero_-_Phase_1) unleashed Jean's 'dark side', she went Black Court Hellfire for a while, she put him in a coma, Coma Boy managed a psionic presence that took over Jean's dreams and sent a team in to take over the mansion.

I'll start digging on him.

 

Re: Reply All  
Date: 2017-09-08 12:10 pm (local)  
xp_tarot: 

At risk of setting off an endless series of Star Wars quotes...

I have a bad feeling about this...

I do not know if it is just a general sense of unease or in the precognitive discomfort way, I will Inquire With The Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	4. Part 1 - Obscura - chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Still concerned about Parker's telepathy, Jean asks Charles for permission to bring him to the mansion. He does, with secret instructions for David Haller and Emma Frost to confirm he's not evil. Haller and Emma take a closer look at Parker Matthews to discover the origin of his malady. They do learn that this Parker Matthews is worlds away from the man they used to know._

To: [Xavier, Charles]  
From: [Grey, Jean]  
Subject: Guidance

Charles,

I was wondering if I could get your advice on something. I know someone who is presenting with symptoms that I suspect may have an psionic cause.

He was first admitted as my patient we have since gotten into a closer relationship. During that time, he confided in me that he has powers. He appears to be a low-level telepath but seems to be suppressing his powers.

When he was admitted he seemed to display fatigue, muscle pain and weakness, and vomiting. Initially, after a few days of observation, he seemed to get better but he was recently re-admitted, with a worse reaction than before. I know the cursed emerald that the others were investigating isn't the cause because he isn't wearing it or has it in his home.

Have you heard or seen any instances where telepathy can manifest with symptoms other than ones centered around the brain? I have run every test I can think of.

I would appreciate and welcome any insight you might have.

Thanks,  
Jean

 

Date: 2017-09-13 09:29 pm (local)  
xp_rofessorx: 

Jean:

Powers suppression, especially in telepaths, can result in any number of unexpected reactions. I think it would be wise to bring your patient to the mansion, so that we may investigate the problem together. If he is willing, of course.

Charles.

 

Date: 2017-09-13 09:33 pm (local)  
xp_phoenix:  
To: [Xavier, Charles]  
From: [Grey, Jean]  
Subject: RE: Guidance

Charles,

I've talked it over with the patient and he agrees. Attached is some of his relevant medical information that he's let me release. His name is Parker Matthews.

Jean  
Attached: Matthews,Parker.zip

 

Date: 2017-09-13 09:34 pm (local)  
xp_rofessorx:

Jean,

You're welcome. I look forward to meeting Mr. Matthews when he arrives.

Charles

***

Sep. 13th, 2017 09:34 pm  
xp_rofessorx: 

To: David Haller; Emma Frost  
From: Charles Xavier  
Subject: A problematic patient

David, Emma:

It has come to my attention that Jean has come into contact with a certain Parker Matthews. He has been her patient and appears to be suppressing his telepathy, so she has asked for permission to bring him to the mansion for help. I have granted this. 

I do not do this lightly. I recall our previous encounters with Mr. Matthews' previous incarnation and I do not wish a repeat performance. I am requesting both of you to monitor him while he is here for any untoward behavior. I would do so myself, were I capable, but as I am not, I hope that you will act in my stead.

Regards,

Charles

***

"I'm going to name five objects. Please remember them; I'm going to you to tell me what they are later. Apple. Tiger. Tie. Pen. Car."

Jim's eyes twitched to Matthews over the top of the mental status exam. The man didn't look well - tired, slightly pale, though maybe that was just the fluorescent lights. He tried to focus on that present unwellness and not the past associations.

As Matthews repeated the words the counselor asked: ~Is he fighting you?~

~Not in the slightest,~ replied Emma. ~Not that I'm giving him any reason to,~ she added archly, sending along with the words a picture of Emma, dressed in the classic White Swan outfit from Swan Lake tiptoeing delicately across a stage, her pointe shoes barely deigning to touch the ground. ~If he is what he was, I don't want to step on any landmines.~

~True.~ In the state Matthews seemed to be in he suspected any psychic beartrap she stepped into was more likely to blunt its teeth on her ankle. Still, like Emma, he wasn't taking appearances for granted.

"You have a $100," Jim continued aloud. "You go to the store and buy a dozen apples for $3 and a tricycle for $20. How much did you spend?"

"Too much for the lamest kid's birthday gift ever." Parker said although he received a blank look in response. "OK, no comedy. Got it. Uh, twenty-three dollars, plus any tax?"

Jim ticked a box, giving Matthews no indication as to whether he was right or wrong. "And how much do you have left?"

"Math. Why did it have to be math. I hate math. Seventy-seven? Yeah, that's right."

Jim pondered as he moved to the next question. The man seemed a little nervous, as tended to happen when one was being assessed by a stranger about a seemingly undiagnosable illness, but he was cooperative and even his jokes were appropriate.

~The next section will need more active engagement from him,~ Jim remarked. ~Should help divert attention from his defenses. Any disconnect between his interior and his affect?~

~ Not that I have noticed,~ replied Emma. ~His mind is not – simple, but it seems very uncomplicated so far. Which is almost making me more suspicious than if it was a maze of deadfalls and cul de sacs. Almost. Am I allowed to confess that I dislike uncomplicated people? Though,~ she added as she carefully turned towards another section of his psyche, quartering her search efficiently, ~it does make these sorts of scans rather less stressful for everyone.~

Jim pondered as he had Matthews repeat the five original objects. The act triggered memory-retrieval, passively opening further mental compartments for Emma to slip through.

~If his power is geared toward suggestion it's primarily projective,~ he mused. ~There may never have been a need to set up the typical blinds and defenses. Nurture shaping nature.~

Emma sent Jim a mental picture of her rummaging through a chest of drawers, flinging underwear over her head, so it drifted down in a snowstorm around her, although her actual mental touch on Parker’s mind was as light as a breath. Then the image cut off suddenly as something became clear to her. ~You know, I think our patient doesn’t actually use his powers. Not consciously. Not for a very long time.~ She carefully sifted through the memories she held in her mental hands. ~He doesn’t – like them. Trust them? Trust what they may be providing to him? It might explain why his psyche is so ascetic.~

Jim allowed a flicker of surprise to touch his thoughts as he had Matthews reverse increasingly long strings of numbers. ~This sort of power usually manifests like a direct line to the id. He has to be making a conscious effort to suppress it.~

~Indicating a conscience, perhaps?~ mused Emma as she picked through further memories. ~Or an ego the size of Texas – maybe he can’t stand the thought that he’s getting what he wants because he’s a mutant, not because of his natural charm and good looks.~ Emma’s mental tone could not have been drier. ~Self-hate manifests in so many different and exciting ways. It might be interesting to find the place in his history where he found out he was a mutant and what his powers did. It might shine a light on why he’s chosen this path.~

"This circle is a clock-face. Please fill in hour markers, and the time at ten minutes to eleven o'clock." Lobbing softball questions at Matthews as another psi conducted the actual assessment because he was still squeamish about sending his mind where it had not been, Jim noted that an observation could be both shockingly cynical and potentially correct.

~I've got six more questions to work with,~ he sent. ~If nothing else, a causal event might might help us anticipate any future issues, conscious or not. Self-hate has a tendency to fester.~ 

~Mmm-hmm,~ responded Emma, the majority of her mind obviously elsewhere. Changing the mental landscape she was using to search Parker’s mind, she suddenly stood in a room full of old fashioned filing cabinet, moving rapidly through the room, her fingers tracing lightly across the cards on the front that described their contents. A short search later, she made a satisfied noise and opened a cabinet, extracting an old-fashioned manilla folder, tied with red ribbon. She untied the ribbon, and opened the file, allowing her to see the memory, projecting it to Jim as she did.

 _"There was a little Spanish flea. A record star he thought he'd be. He saw the Monkees and Beatles and Chimpmunks who sang on TV! Why not a little Spanish Flea?"_ Parker's internal mind sang.

The song rippled with de-contextualized images, like old newspaper clippings. Closed faces across a poker table. Hands hovering over chips worth ten times what he had in his pocket. Eyes beneath long lashes gazing at him over drinks. A scrapbook of missed opportunities. The refrain echoed:

_Why not a little Spanish Flea?_

But in the background of each image, like the shadow of a negative, were a pair of silver eyes.

~He trained himself out of using his powers,~ Jim said, impressed despite himself.

~And he’s very coy about how he found out about them,~ said Emma, somewhere between amused and annoyed at the vagaries of the memory. ~Mmm. Silver eyes. Boy? Girl? Girl, I think. Judging by the current expression of his orientation and the flavour of his mind when he thinks about the eyes.~ Emma sent an amused picture to Jim of her holding a brain in her right hand and licking it with the delicacy of a gourmet tasting a white truffle. ~Yes, I know I’m taking this insufficiently seriously – consider me pre-chastised, so you don’t have to harrumph at me. What do you think – is it worth following the trail of this memory?~

Had someone caught Matthews in the act? Distantly Jim was aware there was a less than slim chance this was relevant to their assessment, but something had caused the man to limit his powers. Not that he had any personal bias related to that sort of scenario, of course.

~If his mind is otherwise as straightforward as you say, I admit I'm curious,~ Jim confessed. He refrained from further confessing he was somewhat amused by Emma's flippancy despite himself; it was a pleasant reprieve from the stress of his standard accreditation work, and he had a hard time believing she couldn't already sense it.

~Then we might as well go a little deeper,~ responded Emma, flashing an image of her in a dazzling white swimsuit, diving gracefully from some impossible, dizzying height. Even as she sent the image, she sent the rest of her mind scouting outward from the memory she held in her psychic hands, tracing the flavour of it outwards through Parker’s austere mindscape. The thin thread of emotion meandered onwards for some time, leading Emma deeper into his psyche, into areas she hadn’t yet had time to explore. Turning a psychic corner, Emma breathed out suddenly in surprise. ~Oh my,~ she said. ~I wasn’t really expecting this.~

It looked like an old, overgrown garden. Greenery grew haphazardly between broken stone and across piles of shattered marble. Occasionally, through the tangles of vines and kudzu-like ground cover, a bit of detail could be recognized; the carving of three toes of a foot, the loop of an ear, a mostly covered detail of thigh muscle. The short plinths were well overgrown, but the piles around them suggested that statues had been placed there before. A quick examination revealed that they had been violently smashed from their perches, and broken up into unrecognizable jumbles of stones.

So much damage so close to Matthews' core . . . yet Emma's borrowed perceptions indicated no foreign fingerprints. Instead the tableau was permeated by a different impression: that they were looking upon the remains of a natural disaster, or perhaps even that a sculptor had taken a sledgehammer to his own creations. 

But the ruins were wild with green. Overgrowth had enveloped the rubble, anchoring the loose pieces where they'd fallen to conceal and secure what lay beneath. Self-destroyed, self-repaired.

Jim sent, ~I think this is beyond the scope of our assessment.~

~I think… yes,~ replied Emma, the brief interlude between her words giving her sufficient times to run her mental hands over a number of the remains. ~Uncovering this is going to take either slicing or digging, and I don’t think I’m willing to do either without a second opinion.~ A few further moments of rummaging lightly through the rubble, so lightly it didn’t even disturb the mental dust, convinced her. ~I can only feel him here. But what is here is scar tissue. Something rather epic happened here. I’d like to talk to Xavier before I embark on psychic surgery to open it up.~

~Agreed. Let me finish here and I'll be right up.~

Jim mulled over this information as he mouthed through the final section of the test, a short anecdote designed to test information retention and detail extrapolation.

"Good news," Jim said aloud when Matthews had finished, "you got a perfect score for someone of your age and education level, so whatever's going on isn't impairing your mental status. I know your scans were clear, but sometimes things get strange with mental abilities."

"Great, so my... powers, or whatever, aren't the pre-existing condition. I'm just dying from a different type of unknown thing." He sighed. "Gotta tell you Doc, I was hoping it was something that you guys could just cut out with my powers and fix everything."

Jim quirked an eyebrow, remembering the shattered garden at the heart of Matthews' mindscape. "Why?" he asked. "Did you think they're related to what's happening to you?"

Parker shrugged. "Not until you guys brought me in for this exam. But if that was the case, having a solution that stopped me feeling like death and that got rid of the things would be two fixes in one."

The telepath allowed the professional mask to drop. There was no need to disguise the sincerity of his concern. "Why's that?" he asked. "You seem to have a good handle on it. Exceptionally good for someone self-taught, in fact." 

"Hey, I'm not judging other mutants and their powers but mine are the kind no one should have."

"Why do you say that?"

"My power is to make people do things. Whether they want to or not. And, if you want to be contrary, sure, I might be the greatest hostage negotiator of all time or something. But do you think it stays confined like that." Parker sighed and sat back down. "I paid my way through University playing poker. Even thought about turning pro at one point. And, a nice side benefit was that being a good player at the time was like being the starting quarterback with the girls. It was nice when you bought the prettiest girl in the bar a drink and, man, she only had eyes for you."

He started to slowly drywash his hands; an obvious nervous tick. "And then you find out you have this power. And suddenly think, did I make the other players lose? Did I use it on those pretty girls? There's some pretty strong words used to describe people who use force to get money or sex. I bet you've heard them."

"Yes." Jim thought back to a different Matthews, haunting a different Jean. "I have."

"Yeah. So now, everything good that happens for me always has that voice behind it: did I use my powers for this? And every time life gets difficult for whatever reason, it's that same voice reminding me there's an easy way to fix it." He shook his head again. "Maybe there are people who are strong enough to handle that and still be able to use them for good. But I'm not. I don't even know if I'm strong enough to keep them locked away. So, yeah... you got a way to get rid of them, sign me up." 

So Emma had been right about the distrust of his powers, perhaps even about the self-hate. Could that have been the source of the damage? he wondered. Had Matthews mutilated his own mind trying to kill his powers? 

"I can see how that'd be stressful," Jim said finally. "We can't get rid of mutations, but sometimes it's possible to put in a type of block. It's a last resort measure, though. If you're interested we could do another assessment after the physical side of things is settled to see if that might be something you'd benefit from, or if there's anything else we can do to help you there."

"Wait, you're serious? It's... actually possible?"

"Sometimes. And it's got risks -- it can cause psychological problems, and it's not something we'd consider unless you're in good physical shape. But I can still run it by the professor if you'd like."

"I'd like some more information... because I'm told it is off-putting to agree so quickly that I'm willing to volunteer to open up my skull myself if it helps. But yeah... just... some kind of certainty for once."

Jim smiled. "We use non-invasive methods. But yeah, obviously it's a discussion that deserves a session of its own. I'll look into it. For now, though, let's focus on getting you better." The counselor stood, tucked his clipboard under his arm, and offered the other man his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Matthews."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
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	5. Part 1 - Obscura - chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _An old enemy thought lost returns: the Shadow King, freed from its host, parasitizes Jean in hopes of consuming her power. Haller and Emma pull out all the stops to fight._

Jean walked beside the bed as she telekinetically wheeled it down the hall, along with Parker's IV and other pertinent equipment. Part of her felt tense. From the moment Jean brought Parker in, a few people seemed on edge. Emma and Haller wanted an exam. It wasn't something that they did for some of the younger telepaths, like the Cuckoos, or Quentin. Perhaps it was a new precaution, due to the nature of Parker's illness. 

But right now that wasn't really something she could worry about. 

"When you were a kid, did you ever want to shut your powers off?" she said with a faint smile, determined not to let her concern show. 

"The Box is our way of doing that. It's basically like a giant pair of mufflers." 

She scribbled down a few notes in the chart. 

"I'm hoping that if your powers are causing you illness, temporarily cutting them off will perhaps help stop the symptoms." 

"I never knew I had powers until that HeliX event. And then I spent the rest of the time trying to make sure they weren't used. So, it figures that I'm going to die of mutant cancer or something." 

Jean shook her head. "While I don't THINK it's mutant cancer, I'm keeping my diagnosis open for every possibility," she said. She let out a breath as the door to the Box neared. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"Like I've been rolled down a rocky hill in a barrel. A metal barrel. A metal barrel with spikes inside." He managed a weak smile for her. "Should I go on?" 

Jean found herself laughing despite herself. Sometimes dark humor was needed. 

"Nah," she held up her hand. "I think I got it." 

The door opened to the Box. "You might feel a little strange when you first go in. I did. The abrupt silence can be a little disconcerting at first, but you get used to it." 

"If I do okay will you make me a mixtape?" He said lamely, trying to mask his fears. He'd been running away from his powers for years, and now he was being shoved in a box that eliminated them. He had no gauge of what would be a normal reaction. 

"Now I know you're old school," Jean said, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. She smiled. 

"You got it." 

"Take care, Doc Jean. I'll be... uh." He looked around. "Here. Apparently." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Jean said as she wheeled him into the room. The door closed behind them. 

"At least for a while. I'll wheel in a TV so we can catch up on some Netflix." 

"We aren't watching it on our phones? What is this, the Dark Ages?" 

Jean grinned. "You can watch it on that tiny screen if you want, but I'm going with flat screen. Especially if's an action scene." 

Parker watched the door closed with a slight feeling of dread. It wasn't like he needed his powers, but what would happen without them? He tried to settle back. 

It didn't work. 

"Delicious." 

The Box had been cleared for its new inhabitant. Jean now set to plugging in the machines. 

"Hmmm?" she said, glancing up. Not exactly the word she was going for with action. 

His reaction was to roll his eyes up into his head. His arms and legs started to twitch uncontrollably and drool spilled from the corner of his mouth as he crashed violently against the bed rails before he went completely still. 

It was the clanging that caught Jean's attention. She immediately shot up, ripping the plug out of it's socket. 

"Shit." 

Scrambling toward the door, she yanked it open and began pulling his bed down the hall, all the while fumbling for her comm unit. 

But she didn't make it far. 

"You.... huuuuurt me." His fist connected with the point of her nose, forcing her back and bouncing the back of her head off of the wall. "You did this! You.... did this." 

Parker's hands found her throat as her mentalscape exploded. Shadow enveloped her, fighting and tearing at her shields. It was like a thousand fingers tapped with talons striking her shield, running over and diving into every crack to try and tear her open. "You burned ME!" 

The comm unit flew out of Jean's hands before she could speak a word and skid across the floor. She gasped for breath, blood pouring down her face as her mind and body both fought against the surprise attack. It was like trying to outrun the ash cloud from a volcano. Had she been prepared, maybe, maybe she would have had a chance. But power like this....it was nothing she had ever felt. 

As the shadows started to rip their way through, Jean's panicked mind reached out like a foghorn, searching for anyone who could hear it. 

The psychic cry split Jim's mind with such force the notes he was making in the computer turned into a row of "SSSSSSSSS" under his spasming hands. He almost never sensed things without effort: this was a scream. 

He shoved away from the desk, almost falling out of his chair, and became aware of Charles' steadying presence in his mind. Both men recognized the source. An instant of wordless communication passed between them, and it was understood. Charles' presence redirected to calm the mansion's other sensitives; Jim sprinted for the Medlab. 

Though Jean tried desperately to keep a hold on her shields, the massive psionic power was too much and she soon felt herself succumb, devoured by the darkness. 

~Jean’s gone dark,~ Emma sent to Haller, from where she, too, was running for The Box. ~And I can’t find Parker at all. There’s just darkness. Psionic darkness.~ It felt familiar, she thought to herself, but didn’t send. She had accepted that the prohibition on mentioning things that had happened before the world ended was so necessary that she wasn’t willing to mention it even on the tightest psychic band. 

Jim tried to cast his mind ahead only as long as it took him to confirm Emma's assessment. He couldn't place what caused the twitch of recognition and he didn't have time to ponder it. All he knew was that it was vast, and it was blotting out all trace of Jean and Matthews. 

He didn't bother with the elevator; he simply headed directly for the emergency stairwell and vaulted the railing. A quick burst of telekinesis broke his fall. The instant his feet touched the tiles Jim crushed it down and reinforced his telepathic shields to maximum capacity. 

"Jean?" he called into the hallway. "Jean, can you hear me?" 

Parker's hospital bed was overturned in the hallway. Parker himself was sprawled near the bed, awkwardly angled like a tossed-aside doll. 

The unforgiving florescent lights overhead were a spotlight on Jean she stood in the middle of the hallway. She slowly turned around, revealing the blood that had dripped down her nose to stain her lips, lab coat and scrubs. Her breathing was ragged as she took in gulps of air. Her neck had started turn red and purple from hand-shaped bruises. Her hair was a mess, eyes blood shot, too much so. It was almost as if they glowed. 

"Of course I can," she said, regarding Haller with an almost amused expression. Come to think of it, the expression was rather amused. It didn't fit the state of her body. 

She slowly grinned, revealing blood stained teeth. 

"I'm not Jean, though," she said, lashing out with a telekinetic blast aimed to slam him into the wall with enough force to dent it. Her eyebrows rose with delight, like a kid trying out a new toy. 

"I think I'm going to enjoy this." 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

Everyone is afraid of something. For some people, it's snakes...or spiders, or public speaking. All logical things tied into a primal need for survival. 

For others, it's something a little more complicated. 

It comes down to control. The mind is a terrible thing to lose. And for Jean, sometimes she wondered if it would ever come to the point where she be one of the lost. Would her powers take her just as far as she could go? Would she break? Would she lose control? 

She feared a four walled room with no windows, and a barred door. 

And it was that nightmare that she woke up in. 

Somehow, she was here. She knew she shouldn't have been. That this wasn't real. She knew where she'd been. She felt the darkness. But this felt real, down to the cold, cracked ground of the cell. 

She couldn't move. There was a straight jacket wrapped around her body, and she was chained to the floor. The smell of urine, mold, and body odor hung in the air. 

Of course, being a doctor, she knew the true state of psychiatric hospitals. They were meant to help. But she had read enough to know of the past, and how low some facilities had gotten before they came to that point. The filthy places where someone could live their life, forgotten. 

This wasn't real, right? 

"HELLO?" she screamed, yanking herself to her feet and feeling the chain pull her back. "Is someone there?!" 

~I'm here. I've always been here, Jean.~ The voice in her mind was oily, dripping with dark promise. ~In every doubt. Every hesitation. Every time you thought you weren't a good person and was proved right.~ 

It was like a black fog growing around her, tendrils picking at her skin. ~There is an easy way to finish this, you know. No more doubts, no more fears, no more failures. I will treat you like a jewel in the centrepiece of a crown.~

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

The blow came without a shred of restraint. The only thing that prevented a fatal impact was a telekinetic cocoon that barely manifested in time to prevent Haller's spine from shattering. 

Flight was not option. As Haller slid to the floor the unrestrained Fight instinct that was Jack surged to the fore. He raked his eyes up to meet the woman's mad green gaze, and as he did the tile exploded beneath her like an IED. 

Though she anticipated retaliation, telekinesis was still much harder to use more precisely. It'd take a small bit of time the ropes again. But the power...such power. It was delicious. 

She was able to use a shield to protect herself from most of the debris, save from a few lacerations and tiny fragments of tile embedded in the flesh as the shockwave slammed her against the ceiling. One of the lights exploded from the tile explosion as well, sending sparks everywhere. 

Her landing was a bit more graceful, however, as she tempered her descent, floating down to the ground. 

"Still capable of being vicious, boy. Good." She studied Haller, licking the blood from her mouth as the grin returned, this time with a bit of pride. 

"I suppose I was wrong to think you wouldn't damage this body. Touche. Look at that darkness," she said. 

This time she decided to go for her strong suit and reached out telepathically as spiked black ropes surrounded his telepathic shield, squeezing hard, aiming to puncture, to rend and tear. 

"Here's mine." 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

The words made Jean flinch, both startled and repulsed, but the straight jacket held her steadfast. It dug in. It was then she realized that it wasn't really a straight jacket. She was on the astral plane. This wasn't real. No matter how much it felt. 

"No....," she said, taking a deep, shuddered breath to try to calm herself. She clenched her jaw. 

"I know my own demons. You're not one of them. Who--what are you?" 

It wasn't a straight jacket. It was the darkness itself, coiled around her, trying to dig its way in. 

~No one knows their demons. They think they do, but they don't.~ The words trickled into her brain. ~I can give you everything you want, Jean. Without the pain or the uncertainty. I can help you make a real difference.~ There was an odd resonance in the air around her when it said that; a flash of fire and the smell of smoke. 

Jean blinked rapidly, glancing around with a gasp. She pressed herself against the wall. The world seemed blurry, darker all of a sudden. The pale, barred light bulb had gone dimmer. 

"For who? Usually my demons don't offer the world," she said, her voice trying, and eventually finding purchase as she tried to pull herself up to her feet, even with the chain around her leg. 

"They usually want to break it. Tell me what you are!" 

~Show me yours and I'll show you mine.~ It almost licked her ear. ~Tell me about what Jean really wants?~ 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

The ropes sliced at his shields like razor-wire, and Haller could feel Jean's touch in them -- but wrong, somehow, like a glove-covered hand that looked normal at first glance but moved with too many joints. The psychic pressure beyond his shields was crushing, a deep-sea kind of pressure that would rush into the smallest crack in his defenses. He couldn't telepathically retaliate without leaving himself open to whatever lay beyond. Instead, Jim braced himself against his lacerated shields and closed his eyes. 

A column of flame erupted around Jean. Volcanic heat blasted her skin, chewing through the oxygen around her. Haller looked up at his teammate through the fire, now-green eyes glowing. 

"Yeah, well," panted Cyndi's distinct voice, sweat streaming down her face as the alter struggled to maintain the inferno, "have a nightlight." 

The-one-who-wasn't-Jean was surprised by the sudden flame, causing the tendrils to retreat. She struggled to suck in breath, hitting her knees. Surprise quickly turned to pain-laced rage, as her blood shot eyes soon bled through to become entirely red and her own telekinetic cocoon appeared around her. 

Noticing a red, 'pull in case of fire' box nearby, she yanked it down telekinetically. The sprinkler system came to life, soaking the hallway, and most of the lower levels. 

In all the confusion, she ripped out two of the IV cords from Parker's arm and IV bag and telekinetically try to wrap them around Haller's neck and string him from the ceiling. 

"I wanted another pawn. I'll settle for a corpse." 

Cyndi kicked futilely, trying to work her fingers beneath the cords and failing. She tried to grasp at the water molecules with her mind, but she was weak from sustaining so much flame for so long, and the growing panic of strangulation left her concentration shattered. 

Her vision started to grey at the edges. Pressure was building behind her eyes as the the small vessels burst. Her only recourse was to boil Jean's blood in their veins, but even as she looked into the cold glee of the woman's eyes she knew that was something she could never do. Not even if something else was wearing her body like a suit. 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

Jean clenched her jaw. The tendrils dug deeper, the barbs piercing the skin, or at least the skin of her astral form, already ripped and bloodied by the initial attack. Around her, the cell continued to darken. The walls seemed to move, slithering into shadow. It was as pure evil lived there. 

"You really don't want to see mine," she said, narrowing her eyes. She could feel the panic start to give way to anger. This thing had taken root in her mind. She had to keep her focus. 

"Jean wants you to leave." 

~I can't leave you, Jean. I'm part of you. The part of you that you've always denied.~ The voice was so unctuous. ~You want a community so much. A family. You work so hard and yet... and yet...~ 

There was a flash of Warren naked with another girl. ~He chose someone else, didn't he?~ 

Jean closed her eyes, shaking her head. She opened her eyes. "He chose a lot of someone elses. I'm not the right person for him. I accepted that a long time ago," she said. 

She clenched her fists, trying to use the scientific method to work backward and figure out what was going on. 

"You were in Parker, weren't you? You were what was making him sick. But we cut you off somehow by putting you in the Box." The theory had been that it was something to do with his powers creating the illness...Perhaps they were only half right. 

~Oh, blaming it on that poor boy? It's a shame. His self-hate was so keen it was like it had been forged.~ A dark chuckle rumbled across her mind. ~His fantasies were rather intense. Would you like to see them? He imagines you to be very flexible.~ 

"You're changing the subject," she said. She glanced around, trying to shut out the thing's words. 

"And if you're trying to get me to give in or demoralize me...pissing me off is really not the best plan. But you're welcome to try." 

~Of course. The only man that has been interested in you in ages has some kind of mental issue. Is that coincidence... or wish fulfillment?~ Waves of darkness skipped over her. ~Or maybe that can be made easier?~ 

Jean narrowed her eyes, feeling another shudder move through her. She clenched her teeth. 

"Shut up," she growled. 

"Just tell me what you are! Stop playing games." 

~I'm the part of you that thought you should have been hit by the car. I'm the part of you that let him inside you despite knowing he was with others. I'm the part of you that hates your boring, micro-managing parents and their love of your uncomplicated sister. I'm all the reasons you look at certain people and then convince yourself that going to your cold bed alone is right and yet desperate.~ The darkness drew closer. ~I'm the freedom that comes after the first and most important yes.~ 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

Once Emma had felt that familiar aura, then the first moves in the fight between what-had-been-Jean and Haller, she hadn't put up shields or had the slightest illusion that she could win this fight telepathically, Instead, she had continued to run towards the Box in diamond form, psychically invisible. So she had no idea what she would see when she arrived. From her peripheral vision, she saw Haller hanging from the ceiling, hands futilely clutching at the cords, feebly struggling. But she discarded that sight, focused instead on Jean, Jean's face, Jean's nose. Emma didn't slow from her dead run, but instead cocked back her arm and, with all the momentum she thought safe, drove her diamond fist hard into the bridge of Jean's nose. 

The not-quite Jean seemed distracted by something, long enough to not see Emma running toward her. But it was the glint of diamond that eventually caught her eye and she turned toward it at the moment fist hit flesh, the blow glancing off her cheekbone instead. She felt a crack as the force of the punch drove her backward, causing her to stagger. 

Glancing up, she immediately reached out her mind to try to wreak havoc, but caught a wall. She let out a growl that didn't quite sound human, narrowing her eyes (one of which was starting to swell shut). 

"You," she said. 

At this point, she knew the best option was to regroup. The more damage to the body, the longer it'd take to heal. Especially when she was still trying to gather her own strength. So she telekinetically gathered up some of the water that was pooling on the ground from the sprinkler system and tried to surround Emma's head with it. 

She still had to breathe, didn't she? 

Emma’s expression was almost a smirk as the globe – well, sort of globe, it was definitely somewhat wobbly – of water settled around her head. To think that people thought breath play was only for fun and kinks, when it could turn out to be so very useful in a fight. Without the globe even slowing her down, Emma drove her fist forward again, aiming for the nose she had been deflected from the last time. 

The intruder barely had time to narrow her eyes in surprised annoyance and raise a shield to block the blow. She could hear the crack of diamond against it. 

The follow-up punch from Emma was immediate and came from below, an uppercut that the Jean-that-wasn’t hadn’t been expecting. It slipped beneath the telekinetic shield that had been raised to protect Jean’s face and instead landed square in her diaphragm. The sudden shocked gasp from Jean, as the air rushed out of her body, was followed by Emma’s sharp intake of breath as the telekinetic bubble of water fell away from her face. 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

The shadows felt like searing cold on Jean's skin, burrowing, trying to get in. She closed her eyes, at first trying to shut the voice out. 

A sudden burst of pain shot through her body, giving her focus. Apparently things were going on in the real world. 

The pain, both emotional and literal, gave her a realization: she knew she didn't want to hear his words because they hurt. But she also knew what the words could do: fuel the rage. So she let herself take them in. 

Her muscles suddenly went slack, and she opened her eyes, giving the darkness a hard stare. 

"Thank you," she said. 

~Not yet. I have so many things for you to thank me for.~ 

Jean continued to stare. "You don't understand," she said. Her voice was remarkably, dangerously calm. There was almost a hint of a smile there. 

The air had started to turn. It was turning warm. White smoke had started to billow up from under the tendrils. 

"I want to thank you...for helping me see that you're only kindling." 

~Oh poor, sweet child. You think your idealism will protect you? The Shadow King never needed to make him a rapist. He did that himself. I never needed to make you wet for the attentions of murders and killers. I never needed to pretend that the soft, weak men you wanted to like were people you held in contempt.~ 

The faint smile Jean had died on her face, ripped away by a blank, unyielding stare. 

There was a moment where she'd considered trapping it. Perhaps it was the idealism he mocked within her. But she quickly knew this was something that could no longer exist in this world, or any other world. 

Even knowing his name didn't save him. In fact, it only sealed his fate. 

She felt something stirring within her. It'd been there before, released by pain and rage. It was there in the library of Topaz's mind. Of course it would be here again. 

In the recesses of her mind,her green eyes quickly caught fire. 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

Jean stumbled, weak on her feet, reflexively clutching her stomach. Pain radiated through her body, and she struggled once again to suck in air. Her eyes fixed on Emma, brows furrowing. "Incessant bi--" A moment, flickering, like she struggling with an important decision. Then, the decision was made. 

All around her, the doors in the hallway began to rattle before being ripped off their hinges with a hideous shriek and crack of wood and metal, barreling for the other woman. 

But Jean's eyes glossed over and the projectiles lost their guidance, left only to momentum. She clutched her head, her face contorting in pain at first before a twisted pleasure became mixed in. She began to laugh. 

"Magnificent." 

A hissing noise was heard as the water around her turned into steam. The hissing noise grew louder, turning into smoke. Jean's twisted face turned from gleeful agony, to rage. 

~(X)~ ~(X)~~(X)~~(X)~

**"I think you should burn,"** Jean said, cinders pouring from her lips as the smoke turned to flames, a brilliant fire bursting through the tendrils, igniting every inch of darkness in its wake. 

~Burn me! You fucking whore, burn me!~ There was an uncomfortable wiggle, like it enjoyed it. ~Burn me so I can make you lick the scars. I know what you want and the more I hurt, the more you'll crawl to me...~ 

Jean's face twisted as she felt the real world rushing back to her. The pain, the anger, the shock of being taken over overwhelmed her and she poured herself into razing the creature to the ground. 

The laughter turned into a scream in one breath and her hands abruptly dropped to her sides. The smoke billowed, and she abruptly burst into flames. 

It's screams followed the fire, rising as the pyre did, broken-throated and vicious. They were the pain of every atom being engulfed and burned, a pain so complete and comprehensive that it could only exist outside of reality. And yet... yet... for every wave of pain and torment that poured back over her, the justice was less. It became vicious joy, grimy and charred, ashes in her mouth and sharp in her ears. It was gloating over pain, the specialty of all the people she'd ever aligned herself against. 

~Oh Jean. Oh... that-~ The voice paused. ~hurt. Oh that hurt... it hurt like nothing else. Did it make you happy? Did it scratch that itch? Quench that thirst?~ 

There was a long pause. 

~No, it didn't. Because you want more.~ The shadow began to fade, whether burnt away, worn out or of its own accord, she couldn't tell. All she could think of was his last words as they faded away. ~And I, dear Jean... am more.~ 

Her sightless, glowing eyes shot toward the ceiling, and her mouth dropped open. A black, almost tar-like smoke and shadow quickly poured from her eyes, lips, nose, and ears, burning away as it met the fire. The flames around lingered for a moment before being extinguished. 

Jean wavered dangerously, then glanced behind Emma toward Haller. The IV cords wrapped around his neck snapped. 

And Jean herself dropped like dead weight, hitting the ground with a heavy splash against the hallway floor. 

Emma stood for a moment amongst a smallish pile of doors that had either bounced off her diamond form or fallen to the floor before reaching her. Without changing back, she quickly strode to Jean and used felt for pulse and breath. Finding both, she pinched hard at the small mound of flesh between Jean's thumb and first finger, but there was no response. Taking a deep breath, and ready to change back into diamond form instantly, Emma shifted back to flesh and flicked out the quickest probe with her telepathy. The mind that met hers was definitely unconscious and felt both very singular and very much Jean. 

Feeling somewhat safer, Emma backed away from Jean, until she could kneel down next to Haller, her eyes still on the redhead. "Are you okay?" she asked. 

Jim replied with a strangled cough. His vision had returned to the extent he was no longer viewing the hallway through a tunnel, but his head still swam from hypoxia; the highest he could raise himself was to his elbows. The skin burned where the plastic tubing had torn at his neck. 

"Getting . . . there," he managed to rasp. He coughed again. ~Thank you.~ 

Emma nodded. "I think it's Jean back in there." She scanned quickly to check no-one was in hearing range. "The Shadow King?" She murmured the question. 

"The Shadow King." Psychic parasite, a lead weight in the sheet of the astral plane. For an instant Jim's fingers curled against the raw skin of his throat. He glanced at Jean's crumpled form, remembering fire he'd seen with sightless eyes. 

His mind flicked out and back like a snake's tongue. The oppressive nothingness from before was gone. Instead the astral plane around them felt thin and scorched, like the aftermath of a wildfire. His mismatched eyes returned to Jean. 

"She . . . killed it?" 

Emma flicked out a probe again, a light brush against the mind that met her, quickly withdrawn. A bolder, stronger probe followed, as the first met only unconsciousness. This time Emma explored more fully, still wary, but no matter where she looked all she could find was Jean. Jean and the faint smell of psychic scorching that was making Emma vaguely nauseated with memory. 

"He's not there." she confirmed. "Not that I can find here and now and I'm not willing to try and find him." She rocked back on her heels, found the acerbity she wore as armour. "Maybe she killed it with fire." 

Jim levered himself to his feet. Down the hall he could see a portable hospital bed laying on its side, and beside it a gowned figure spilled onto the floor. 

"Matthews." Jim rushed over to check the man's pulse. The man's heartbeat was slow but steady, as if he was in a deep sleep. 

"It was in him," he said as he felt around the other man's mind. "His shields are blown open from the inside." The scar tissue Emma had found . . it hadn't been scarring been the Shadow King's camouflage, allowing it to hide within Matthews until the moment it was ready to strike. Damn, damn, damn. 

He turned back to Emma, fully focused once more. "First thing's first: we'd better call Dr. Reyes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	6. Part 1 - Obscura: chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Quentin observes the psychic battle from afar, and Topaz just rolls her eyes._

Quentin was taking a sick day, ie, whatever new strain of bud he tried last night put him on his ass and no way was he going to make it into the office today. He needed peace and quiet, and maybe a book to pass the time. Picture books. There was a decent collection of art in the library, maybe Xavier had books on Mapplethorpe or Tom of Finland.

He ignored the librarian when he entered and headed straight to the 700s stack. He kneeled to check what was there in photography when a sudden sharp pain struck in his head. It felt like brain freeze, but subsided quickly. For the most part. A dull throb persisted, and Quentin got up to shoot a nasty look at Topaz. He barely knew her, but he did at least know she had some psychic ability, so she could be the culprit.

Topaz was happy to ignore Quire; she was trying to focus on her homework and get it all done before she had to go teach a magic class. She swore Amanda just gave her those when she didn't feel like teaching...

Her thought process was cut off by a dull, sudden throb in the back of her head. Topaz gritted her teeth, waiting for it to pass, then lifted her head to look at Quentin, who was glaring at her. "Oi," she snapped irritably. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to attack someone telepathically before they provoke you?"

"I didn't . . ." He groaned and rubbed his temples. "That wasn't me. Thought it was you." Very very slowly, Quentin lowered the box fort he called his mental shields to try to track the source of the discomfort. "It's local, whatever it is. God, if Chuckles is having a stroke and sharing it with everyone . . ."

Topaz took some sympathy, getting the bottle of aspirin out of her drawer and putting it on the desk for Quentin to take if he wanted. "That would be a damn shame," she murmured absentmindedly, pulling out her phone to see if anyone was talking about it on the journals, perhaps.

Still rubbing his head to try to relieve the pressure, Quentin left the stacks to get the meds. He had just poured out a couple pills when he felt the familiar serenity that heralded Xavier's presence in his head. "Some asshole in the medlab," he said. "As if Frost croaking wasn't bad enough."

"She's in a coma, not dead," Topaz said automatically, returning her attention to her textbook. The emergency had passed, the danger was done (not that it had ever existed), and she still had to read chapter fifteen for class tomorrow. "At least no one's having a stroke."

Curious, Quentin pushed his mind further, following the thread downstairs. He couldn't get too close, though; it was like walking into a burning building. He actually physically recoiled and dropped the pill bottle. "Shit. There's something really fucked up happening there."

Topaz looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe stop poking it?" She suggested, like a mother telling a small child to stop putting their hand in the toilet.

"No, whatever it is, it's big. Psychically big. Aren't you curious?" He squinted his eyes, as if trying to focus on something just over Topaz's shoulder. "I think they're fighting. Oh fuck, it's an X-Men thing, isn't it? Fuck me." He sighed and waved a hand over the fallen bottle, calling it back up and placing it on her desk. "Can't they keep that shit anywhere else?"

"There's a difference between being curious about a bear and poking it with a stick," Topaz pointed out, although she frowned faintly at the mention of it being big. She was useless for anything beyond emotions, however. Unless it was magic, there was nothing for her to do. "Email the complaint department, I'm sure they'd love to hear from you."

Morbid curiosity got the better of him. There was something unusual about the battle, something Quentin couldn't quite place. There was another flare, as bright as the last but more focused, directing a sense of righteous rage at one target instead of everyone who would listen. Quentin gripped the edge of the desk so he wasn't knocked off his feet, but the psychic wave was gone as soon as he steadied himself. The astral plane was just static.

"Huh."

Topaz watched Quentin to make sure he didn't hurt himself. If the problem was down in the basement, hauling his sorry arse to the med lab or the Box wasn't going to be an option. She wasn't as in-tune with what was going on - empathy didn't lend itself to quite the same ability to sense things on the astral plane - but she could tell when whatever was happening finally ended. She tilted her head, waiting for a moment.

"Guess it's over?" She finally ventured.

Quentin shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I think I'm going to go lie down. I need a nap." He left without saying another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	7. Part 1 - Obscura: chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After the battle with the Shadow King using her body, Jean wakes up in a hospital bed. Haller is there to greet her._

The monitor marked Jean's heartbeats as she lay in the hospital bed, a splash of red hair and black and blue, swallowed by a sea of white and chrome. She dreamed of floating in a pin pricked void. There was no hate, no love there, just oblivion. 

A voice, dark and throaty, oozed in, trying to put down roots as the stars were consumed by shadow. 

_~Oh Jean. Oh... that-~ The voice paused. ~hurt. Oh that hurt... it hurt like nothing else. Did it make you happy? Did it scratch that itch? Quench that thirst?~_

Everything soon began to burn, ignited by rage. 

In the real world, the beeping of monitor started to become more and more rapid, like a warning alarm. Everything in the room began to shudder, and shake as Jean turned her head, clenching her eyes tightly. 

"No," she breathed. 

"Jean?" 

The voice was slightly rasping but soft. Jim was seated on the chair in easy view of the foot of her bed, a laptop balanced on his knees and a mug of lukewarm coffee on the rolling table. The only hint that he was on his guard was the paleness of his right eye: Jack was close to the surface. 

In the dream, the fire was beaten back, extinguished, as the shadow turned from a slow, creeping thread to a tsunami. 

_~No, it didn't. Because you want more...~_

This time the voice didn't fade away. She stared down over the earth, watching the darkness as the tsunami spread across the world. Men and women started to kill each other and even their own children as some were driven mad by the shadows, ripping each other limb from limb. Others became mindless and hollow. 

The shadows began to laugh. 

_~And I, dear Jean... am more.~_

In the real world, the shuddering turned violent, and the air around her began to shimmer and smoke as Jean suddenly shot up in the bed, letting out shrieks of terror. 

Her breathing verged on hyperventilation as she tried to catch her breath, her eyes darting around, wild and disoriented. 

Almost Jim flinched out to restrain her with telekinesis, but reined in his instincts at the last second. Instead he darted forward in his chair and put a hand on the closest part of her: the shin. He pushed his presence through the physical contact and into her mind, reassuring and familiar. 

"Jean," he said, face warm with the heat of her power, "it's all right." 

Jean's eyes met Haller's, and the shuddering and shaking in the room suddenly stopped. Her eyes widened as relief washed over her face and her body crumpled in on itself, still heaving breaths that wracked her tall frame. 

"Oh my God, you're alive," she said with a gasp of astonishment, covering her mouth with a shaky hand. 

"I thought---I thought I---" She glimpsed the angry purple bruise around his neck and a tear slipped down her cheek. She kept shaking her head like a bobblehead doll. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." 

Although the angle was making muscles twinge Jim didn't lift his hand from her leg. "Don't worry about it," he said, carefully removing his laptop to the bedside table. "I've been there, too, you know. The worst I have to deal with is a sore back." 

Which was more than he could say for Jean. She looked terrible; her nose had been reset, but the bruises from Emma's beating showed livid against her pale skin. Sweat had made her hair unusually dark, making her seem even paler; the nightmare must have been intense. But she was conscious, coherent, and, most of all, herself. 

Jean finally settled back against the bed and her breathing slowed to a more normal pace. It was only around now as the rush of adrenaline started to wear off that she really felt those injuries. 

"Did I hurt anyone else?" she said quietly, as another stab of fear overtook her. She covered her head with her hands. It hurt to move, to breathe. 

"I don't--He locked me in my mind. I only saw you hanging there...and...and Emma as I was--" She furrowed her brows with confusion, hesitation and fear. 

"As I burned him away." 

"No, it was just the three of us. Some property damage, but nothing unfixable." The clenching in his back finally forced him to sit back. He didn't want to risk the loss of control that came with stronger painkillers, but when he saw Jean wince he thought about calling Cecilia. He also thought about how that would just be delaying the inevitable. 

Despite the injuries, he knew Jean was more interested in answers than painkillers. He would have been. 

"What do you remember about that thing?" Jim asked. 

The question made Jean's relieved face fall. She looked away from him, her eyes turning distant as she lowered her head. 

"He felt like he was...made of shadow," she said softly. 

"I've never felt power like it. I was taking care of Parker and he coded and...I tried to get him to the main lab but he...The thing ambushed me. He put me in..." She swallowed. 

"He put me somewhere, in the dark part of my mind. And I didn't know what was real. But then he....kept trying to get in, trying to take over my mind by force. He tried to convince me that he was a part of me," she clenched her jaw. 

"That he'd always been there, that he was my darkness that I just had to let him in." 

Jim nodded slowly, considering his next words. 

"It's a chameleon," he said at last. He felt strange referring to it as a "he"; it seemed too far beyond that. Jim cleared his throat. "Well, a psychic parasite. It gets inside, and once it has full access it uses that to break you open further. It uses what it learns to break you down." Or it tries, he thought, remembering the flash of flame and the thin, charred feel of the astral plane afterwards. 

Jean blinked up at him. "You've dealt with it before?" she said. She shook her head. 

"It....referred to itself as the Shadow King so I thought...It felt like it was male...once. Like a psychic echo driven mad. It felt like it used to be human." She looked down, silent for a few moments before glancing back up to him. 

"How did you deal with it? Before? How did you....defeat it?" 

The short, raspy laugh hurt his throat, but it did buy him time to sort through his thoughts. He went with the truth, or what there was of it he could share. 

"I don't know if it's the same entity," he told her, truthfully, "but a few years ago the professor and I ran into something a lot like it. A patient presented a lot like Parker. He was a psi, too. It turned out part of his mind had -- warped in, or broken off. So a little like me, too, I guess." He rubbed the back of his head. "It was a personal condition for him, a side-effect of trauma, so I didn't even think about Parker . . . anyway. This thing, splinter or parasite or whatever it was, was self-aware. And it was using itself up. It jumped into another body, a stronger one, and when Charles and I entered the astral plane to investigate . . ." His eyes flicked away. "Well, you did better than we did." 

Jean flinched. She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. "I--don't know what the fire really is yet," she said. 

"It only happens when I'm really angry. Or afraid." 

She stared past him, the anger creeping up again as she clenched her fists. 

"He wanted me. My body. My power. When I burned him, he liked it. He--got off on it. He was never afraid. He wanted more. I dreamed he--" 

She caught herself a moment before she felt her eyes welling up with tears. 

"I dreamed that he came back. And I couldn't stop him. And he used me to take over the world." 

She swiped them away, trying to compose herself. 

"It seems to be gone. We've swept the astral plane and done diagnostics of you and Parker. The way it eats through bodies makes me think it needs a host. Last time it was reclaimed by the original patient." Somewhere in the back of his mind he still felt talons rake his face and chest, could smell charred flesh and burning hair . . . but that was compartmentalized, playing side by side like a split-screen as his mouth held a different conversation. Like it had happened to someone else. 

Had, for her. 

"Either way, it didn't seem able to handle the fire," he continued. "We perceived it as a cold, black void. Wanting . . . more. But since astral physics work symbolically, maybe it didn't pick the best avatar to face you down." 

Jean looked up. "Parker lived?" she said, blinking. She sank down, guilt washing over her face. 

"I didn't think...when he coded...And after everything that happened I just---That's great." 

There were too many things for her to focus on, between psychic parasites and narrow deaths and feeling like death herself, it had been a very long day. 

"Parker's unconscious, but there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage. Emma found what we thought was old trauma in there when we did the first diagnostic. We think the Shadow King used his own powers to create a pocket for itself so no one would detect it as a passenger. Basically, it turned Parker into a carrier." He hesitated, aware of Jean's misery and the vague memory the two of them had been involved in some capacity. "We don't think he was conscious of what was happening -- we definitely didn't see any evidence of it. The Shadow King probably manipulated his memories while parasitizing him." 

Jean shook her head. 

"I--what are you saying? That it tried to get close to me using him?" 

Jim spread his hands and sat back in his chair quickly enough to anger his abused spine. "I -- no," he said hurriedly. "I mean, not that Parker was aware of . . ." 

Shit. He regretted the words the moment he said them. 

Staring at him for a long while, Jean looked like she was trying to stay calm. She clenched her jaw. 

"That doesn't make it better, Jim," she said. 

Jim started to open his mouth, then closed it. 

"I'm sorry," he said instead. "I can't put words in Parker's mouth, and I shouldn't have tried. All I know is what I saw. Everything else is between you two." 

Jean broke her gaze. She wanted to feel anger, to feel anything than the doubt, and the fear, and the pain she was feeling right now. The Shadow King's words about Parker tore into her memory. 

_~Of course. The only man that has been interested in you in ages has some kind of mental issue. Is that coincidence... or wish fulfillment?"~ Waves of darkness skipped over her. ~Or maybe that can be made easier?~_

Her chest heaved as she covered her face with her hands. Her edges were still raw. The weight of everything had started to press in, the words repeating in her mind over and over. 

_~I'm the part of you that thought you should have been hit by the car. I'm the part of you that let him inside you despite knowing he was with others. I'm the part of you that hates your boring, micro-managing parents and their love of your uncomplicated sister. I'm all the reasons you look at certain people and then convince yourself that going to your cold bed alone is right and yet desperate.~_

She choked back a sob, as the remaining picture on the wall that hadn't fallen started to tremble slightly. She didn't know what to say, because the doubt was there. It had only been a few weeks but the relationship had blossomed quickly, almost too quickly. Quicker than she usually took things. He had a certain unbiased logic. She just didn't want to believe it. 

Jim sat there, watching Jean's shoulders shake, and _did_ feel anger: at the Shadow King, for putting her and Parker into this position, and at himself, for being so little comfort. 

"The Shadow King leaves you . . . unstable," he continued, lying down in the hole he'd dug for himself and resigning himself to stare into the sky. "The ways it twists your mind, even if you're only in its proximity. It exacerbates what's already there. It gets better, but if you need to talk -- to me, or to anyone . . ." 

Jean was silent for a few moments. She really wanted to be angry at Jim, but she knew it wasn't his fault that he really had no idea how to talk to people sometimes without making them want to punch him. Perhaps it was just her. 

"I feel...powerless," she admitted finally, pulling her hands away. 

"Like I should've been able to stop it. I've got....all these abilities and he just...sucker punched me." She shook her head, her attention lingering on his neck bruises again. 

"I nearly killed you. What if--what if you and Emma hadn't been able to stop me?" She let out a shuddered breath, eyes widening. 

"God, the children." 

Jim shook his head. "It caught us all off-guard. When Emma and I checked Parker we missed it." He stared at his hands for a moment, his own guilt temporarily superseding his awareness of Jean's. The situation was simultaneously the fault of no one and everyone. 

Then an idea struck him. 

"Hey." He looked up into Jean's bruised face. "Do you think you might want to do some training when you get out of here?" 

Jean studied him a moment, surprised by the offer. She knew he hadn't really done much of it in awhile. 

"I---yeah, actually," she said, tilting her head. She glanced down, shaking her head. 

"Can't promise I'll be at my best, though. Doing---what I did. I feel...drained." 

Jim gave her a crooked smile. "You shouldn't push yourself until you're better -- psychically and physically. Besides, we need to check the astral plane first. The Shadow King might have created distortions. Even scoured I don't trust it to be wholly stable." 

The name made Jean's own faint smile disappear. She was silent for a little awhile, carefully considering her words before finally speaking. 

"So...I don't know how to say this. I have this feeling. I keep thinking it. And it won't go away. I keep trying to tell myself maybe I'm wrong." 

Jim tilted his head. "What is it?" 

Jean glanced up. "I don't think he's dead," she said faintly. It felt like a pressure release to say, but one that also brought forth its own sense of dread, especially now that the words had left her mind and were actually spoken. 

"I think I just surprised him. Why would he be so happy that I immolated him? Why wouldn't he be angry? Or desperate?" 

That brought Jim up short. The astral plane around his manifestation had essentially been napalmed. It was so acrid and scorched he'd had to pull back. The effect was lessening now, but it was hard to imagine anything could have survived. 

But then, he couldn't remember the last time anything had been easy. 

"I don't think it can exist without a host," he said slowly, "and we didn't find any traces. I'm not even sure regular human responses can be ascribed to it anymore. But . . . it's possible." He gave her a crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Better to be paranoid than under-prepared." 

Jean looked down. She laughed bitterly, and immediately regretted it when her ribs gave a sharp reply and she grabbed her side. "I'd rather be wrong," she said. 

"But thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt. And not dying." She smiled. 

"And kicking my ass. Even if Cindy did singe my hair. Bitch." 

The counselor smiled. "Talk to me when she's home-pierced your ears with safety pins. But don't worry about it. Hopefully we'll be wrong together." He glanced at her paled face and hunched posture, grimacing. "I'd better get Dr. Reyes -- she'll want to check you out and get you something for the pain." 

Jean gently tried to settle back against the bed. Her entire body had been screaming but she had been trying to ignore it. 

"That'd be great, on both accounts," she smiled faintly. 

"Still isn't going to stop me from worrying, though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	8. Part 1 - Obscura: coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rogue visits Jean while she is recuperating from the Shadow King battle in the Box and tries to cheer her up._

After being cleared by Cecilia, Jean was allowed to go back to her room but instead chose to stay in the Box. It brought back memories that were entirely, entirely too fresh, but with the feeling in her mind that the Shadow King wasn't quite as dead as she'd planned, she'd rather be safe than sorry. 

She couldn't sleep. Or rather, she didn't want to sleep, worried about dreams of the world's end. But the pain medication she was on caused her to drift in and out. 

So instead she tried to watch old 80s comedy movies on her laptop. Perhaps Tom Hanks could make her laugh. 

This wasn't Rogue's first time doing the walk to the Box, but it was the first time she'd seen it so actively destroyed. Scorch marks on the floors, broken ceiling tiles, water everywhere... 

Walking gingerly through the wreckage, she honestly stopped to wonder whether this was such a good idea or not. After all, Rogue had known immediately who Parker was, even if Jean hadn't, and she hadn't warned her friend. It was due to this guilt that she hadn't gone to see Jean sooner, even though she'd wanted to. Still. Better late than never. 

She knocked tentatively on the door. "Jean? You awake?" 

Halfway into a dream, the knock made Jean jump, and she immediately sat up in bed, nearly knocking over her laptop onto the floor before she caught it sluggishly. Without her telepathy, she had no idea who it was on the other side of the door for a split second. But when she heard Rogue's voice, she relaxed. 

"Yeah," she said. The lamp was on, and it cast a spotlight on Jean's face, which was a patchwork of mottled bruises. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and her nose was broken. Her neck also had a series of deep, dark bruises in the shape of hands across the skin, and her arms were covered in various bandages. 

"Come in." 

Rogue audibly gasped at the sight of her friend. "Shit girl, you done got beat up," she exclaimed, a look of worry crossing her face. 

"Holy crap....." She weakly held out a box of chocolates and a USB stick. "My presents are super lame now...I should have brought you Tylenol." 

Jean shook her head. "Actually, chocolate is the best present," she said with a faint smile, then eyed the USB stick curiously. 

"What is this?" 

"New Game of Thrones. Just because you're here doesn't mean you have to miss out on pop culture." It was almost painful to look at Jean. 

"I don't want to spoil you but it's pretty awesome. I've already watched it a few times." 

Flopping on the bed, she leaned against the wall and crossed her legs. "So. You going to survive this?" 

Jean was silent for a few moments. The question caught her off-guard. 

"Physically, yeah," she said quietly. She shook her head. 

"Psychically...." She let out a breath. 

"He ripped me up. Just...swallowed up every part of me. But even though I fought him....and burned him away...Even though I was angry....It's gone now." 

She looked down. 

"Now I'm just afraid." 

Rogue gave a sad smile. "Oh honey, I know. And nothing any of us say or do will make it okay. You survived though. And that does make you stronger." 

Jean let out a breath. "I've heard that before. Hell, I've given that speech," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. 

"Haller thinks....Parker was being controlled. And the Shadow King said some things about him that were--I don't know if he were doing it to rile me up or if it was the truth." 

Rogue gave a startled look before shaking her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised...that makes sense to me. I mean, come on. Parker seemed like a decent guy, and if this whole Shadow King thing hadn't happened..well, who knows what would have happened." 

Every breath made Jean's body ache. It was a reminder. 

She looked away. "I guess we'll never know," she murmured. How could she continue the relationship now, not knowing what was real and what was planted in Parker's mind. 

Shaking her head, she let out a bitter laugh. 

"And on top of everything...I don't think it's over. No matter how much I'd like it to be. I don't...think I killed the Shadow King. Not really." She stared up at Rogue, her eyes turning misty before she pushed it back down. 

"I've never felt so alone." 

"Oh honey..." Rogue held out her arms. "Can I give you a hug?" 

Jean stared up at Rogue for a couple of moments, rubbing her shoulder. She wordlessly nodded. 

Moving onto the bed, the younger woman gently wrapped her arms around Jean's shoulders and let her head carefully touch the top of Jean's. "I'm not going to say it's going to be okay, because we never know, but I will say that you can get through this. You're one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can do it, you can." 

Jean closed her eyes. "I wish I had your confidence," she said with a faint smile. 

"But thanks." 

"I have confidence in spades," Rogue said solemnly. "Want some? I can actually give you some of me...my skin is a two-way street." 

Jean quirked a brow. "When---did that happen?" she said. 

"Or are you joking with me?" 

"A while ago." Rogue shrugged. "I don't do it often, 'cuz it gives me a headache, but I'm willing to do it for you." 

Silent a moment, Jean shook her head. "I--I don't know what transferring a personality trait'll do to you," she said. The prospect of it bewildered her. She had so many questions. 

"Doesn't seem to bother Logan much. We kind of transfer back and forth often." Rogue gave a sheepish look. "Sometimes, I catch him using 'y'all' and it cracks me up." 

Jean blinked, laughing faintly. She glanced down. "I'll think about it and let you know?" she said. 

"I have way too many questions and--the pain medication's starting to kick in so I'm getting a little woozy." 

"Sure, sure." Rogue got up suddenly, and gave a nod. "And if you need more tv or movies, let me know, 'kay? I'm here for you." 

Jean reached out for Rogue's hand. "Thanks," she said, smiling softly. 

"I appreciate it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on DreamWidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


End file.
